


Warriors & Revolutionaries

by livrelibre



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Female Character of Color, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 18:59:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1868877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livrelibre/pseuds/livrelibre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was sure Che had never had to deal with twitchy interspecies mutants on top of it all, that was for damned sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warriors & Revolutionaries

**Author's Note:**

> Started ages ago for the [in_a_name](http://in-a-name.livejournal.com/profile) prompt: warriors & revolutionaries (Max Guevara, Che Guevara)

The T-shirts had shown up a little while after the first broadcasts from Terminal City, after the rest of the city had a chance to get used to the idea that they weren't ravening monsters who were going to eat them in their sleep. Then, once the media had learned her last name was Guevara, they’d jumped in, styling Max as a new (photogenic) leader fighting against injustice. Now that Eyes Only had blown the lid off the whole story, the government, such as it was, was scrambling to explain illegal genetic engineering and black ops, It was now good politics to be seen supporting the fight against the Man (as long as you didn’t actually fight against the Man). The teeming masses in the city loved it, loved the middle finger Max represented to the powers that always were. They saw in her struggle, nicely packaged with pouty lips and a hot bike, an underdog who was genetically designed to fight back. And so the T-shirts showed up--iconic images of Max jumping through the X cross; of her face, from that awful computer reconstruction; of her barcode (incorrect).

Alec made fun of her for it, though that didn’t stop him from selling her image himself or from making deals with the hustlers and hawkers who parked just outside of TC to sell to the adventurous who came to gawk at the freak show. He'd tried to claim trademark or something, with no success, but was now selling hot merchandise and busily extorting fees for prime sidewalk placement (which they didn't own) out of the merchants he’d stolen it from. "Whatever keeps us in grub Maxie," he'd said and she couldn't argue. They needed more of everything and even though the blockade was gone, it was no easier to get in or out and they had little to no money. It was a struggle to get by and buy or "borrow" what they needed to live day to day.

Most days she didn't feel like that image on the T-shirt, a warrior and revolutionary standing up to the system. She'd turned into quartermaster and wrangler for a host of problems from inadequate plumbing and sewage to media requests. She'd been trained as soldier but she was not used to giving orders to everybody about latrines and birth control. And the days when she could decide to take off on a whim were long gone. Now she only had time for an occasional midnight ramble. She wondered how her namesake had dealt with life as a symbol when you were just doing what you could to stay alive and afloat and make sure your people did too. She was sure Che had never had to deal with twitchy interspecies mutants on top of it all, that was for damned sure.


End file.
